Adventure Has No Rules
by BananaLollypop
Summary: Three months into the Enterprise's five year mission, the Enterprise is docked because of maintenance issues. Samantha Olivier shouldn't be involved. 'Shouldn't' being the operative word... rated 'T' for swearing. *Post-Into Darkness*
1. Chapter 1

**AN:** I know, I know, you're probably thinking 'Oh, great, another OC story...' But I like them, and I wanted to have a shot at writing one so:

Hello people of the Star Trek Universe! I'm completely new to this fandom (I've only seen the two newest movies, which I loved, so here I am!) and I don't know anything about the original series or anything like that (I'll get round to it at some point, I promise!), so if you find any mistakes on that part, please feel free to educate me! This is unbeta-d and it's late, so there will probably be a few typos in there.

**Disclaimer (and I'm only putting this once): I do not own the Star Trek universe. I am merely using it for my, and others, enjoyment. I have a creative writer's licence, so any mistakes that aren't to do with the original series are probably on purpose for the sake of the plot. I own no characters, except for ones whose names you don't recognise from the move/show. **Enjoy!

* * *

Samantha Olivier was a lot of things. She was clever, determined and, at times, a little bit scary.

She was also clumsy, hilarious and had a tendency to use humour to cover up her apparent lack of confidence.

She _also_ had a class that started six minutes ago.

"Excuse me, sorry, sorry, excuse me!" running down the corridors of the academy, she really did try her best to not bump into people. This apparently didn't work out so well, as she left a trail of cadets nursing bumped shoulders, swearing after her and, in a few cases, sprawled on the floor.

Born and raised in Surrey, England, she often found herself as a bit of an outcast; since the events of John Harrison and the explosion in London, the British members of Starfleet did their best to stay out of the way of Starfleet headquarters. Samantha had said to hell with it, and had moved to America and enrolled in Starfleet academy the second she turned sixteen.

Now two years on and officially an adult, she was faced with the choice of taking her exams two years early. However, that seemed to get getting less likely as she glanced down at her watch.

"Ten minutes late," she muttered to herself, focusing on getting to her class and trying not to trip, "Today just isn't my day..." she had woken up late to a smashed alarm clock, courtesy of her roommate who had waltzed in at four in the morning wanting to dance. Samantha had quickly deducted that an intoxicated Marie Wallis had a habit of knocking things over, and said smashed alarm clock was unfortunately at the receiving end of a flailing arm.

She had then had to comfort an overly emotional (and still drunk) Marie, who was still suffering the effects of a breakup.

When she had finally gotten back to bed, she was so exhausted that she overslept, and now she was running late for her class.

"I'm giving Marie a piece of my bloody mind when I get back," Samantha muttered to herself, finally reaching her class.

She really did just want to slip in unnoticed and act like she'd been there the whole time. This plan went perfectly... for about eight seconds. Unfortunately, Samantha's squeak of pain after accidentally kicking a chair happened to coincide with a pause in her professor's speech.

"Ah," he said, smiling wanly, "Cadet Olivier. So glad you could join us, though I must insist that you keep the noise down; I am in the middle of a lecture." Samantha nodded meekly, falling into the nearest chair.

"Sorry, sir," she said, settling down as he continued. She took her PADD out of her bag, placing it on the desk in front of her. She was about to start typing out notes from what her professor was saying when a folded piece of paper was flicked on top of her PADD from beside her. Glancing left, she saw one of the boys in her year at the academy. She couldn't quite locate his name in her mind, which was odd for her; she never normally had any trouble memorising things. He looked pointedly at the piece of paper.

"Open it," he mouthed to her. She frowned, but did as he said, unfolding the piece of paper and reading what was written on it:

_Do you fancy going for a drink later?_

Samantha frowned, writing underneath his line.

_Do I know you?_

Flicking it back, she tried to focus on the lecture again. Her professor was droning on about the importance of Anthropology in the current universe, and how he wanted them all to write a detailed essay highlighting the aspects of Anthropology that made it so important. She was about to type the assignment into her homework planner, when the paper reappeared.

_My name's Liam. We've been in the same Anthropology class for two years. You're hot, and I like you. It doesn't take a Vulcan to know that the most logical thing to do was ask you out. _

Samantha rolled her eyes; from the wording of his note and the smug smile on his face, she could see that the guy was just a little bit full of himself. Sure, he was good-looking and she was a little flattered, but she was _not_ going to agree to a date with an asshole.

_Thanks but no thanks._

She scribbled her answer back to him, before returning her whole attention back to the lecture, ignoring the paper as it found its way back to her desk. At the end of her class, she not so accidentally knocked the piece of paper on the floor, before sauntering off (if someone so unsteady on their feet could saunter).

Checking the time, she decided to check in with Marie before heading to her Xenolinguistics class.

"Marie?" she called out, walking into their room and shutting the door behind her, "Are you still here?"

"Keep the noise down!" came a groan from their bedroom, "I feel like crap..."

"That'll teach you for going out and getting obliterated on a Tuesday!" Samantha chuckled, showing no sympathy for her friend, "You might want to get up; your engineering class starts in half an hour."

There was a pause, and Samantha could hear Marie rolling over in bad to check the time, "_Shit_!" Samantha chuckled, "Why didn't you wake me earlier?!"

"I was in class, you idiot!" Samantha said, rolling her eyes, "My life doesn't revolve around you!" Marie huffed, coming out of their bedroom dressed only in a bra and some pyjama shorts.

"Your PADD's flashing," she noted, yawning, going to the little kitchen area and filling a glass with water.

Samantha picked her PADD up from where she'd put it on the dining table to find a video message. She opened it and groaned audibly.

"_So, you blew me off. That's cool. I get it. But, seriously, I think you're really nice, and maybe we could go for that drink some other time? Let me know."_

"How did he even get my PADD number?!" she questioned, not asking anyone in particular. Marie smirked.

"It sounds like _someone_ has an admirer!" she teased, "Who is he? Is he good-looking? What's his name? What does he study? Is he good-looking?"

"You asked 'is he good-looking' twice," Samantha noted dryly.

"It's an important question, Sam!" Marie said defensively, "Now: _answer_!" Samantha sighed.

"His name is Liam, he's in my Anthropology class, and he isn't _bad_-looking." She supplied grudgingly, "He is also a little bit smug and now a little bit desperate."

"Aw, give him a chance, Sam!" Marie whined, "He seemed nice, from the message. He's better than my bastard of an ex..."

Samantha grimace, " I'm not looking for a guy right now, M," she said firmly, "I've got my exams in two weeks, if I decide to do them. I need to focus on my studies." Marie rolled her eyes.

"Fine, fine," she muttered, "But, I'm telling you, Sam: if he's not _bad_-looking, then you need to grab him before someone else does." Samantha rolled her eyes, packing her PADD back into her bag.

"He's not important," she insisted, tuning the TV on as a way of wasting ten minutes before her next class. She frowned as a news reporter started telling the latest story, "Have you seen this?" she asked her roommate.

"Seen what?" Marie questioned, flopping down next to her friend on the sofa.

"The Enterprise has been docked at a Starfleet space station due to 'maintenance issues'," Samantha relayed, "That ship was supposed to be fit for a five year mission; three months into it, and they've docked already." Marie shrugged.

"Probably because I'm not on board with my extreme engineering expertise," she joked, though the smirk on her face was based on some truth.

"Not that you're smug about being the top of your class or anything," Samantha said grinning, "I need to get to Xenolinguistics."

"Try not to pick up an admirer there as well!" Marie called as she left, giggling.

* * *

_***Two Weeks Later***_

Samantha came out of her last exam feeling both exhausted and relieved at the same time. Having pushed Liam out of her mind, she focused on her studies. After two more days of classes and persuasion from her professors, she decided to take her exams two years early. It had been tough, and Samantha was practically a dead woman walking by the end, but she'd made it through and she thought she'd done well.

"So... are you going to come back to the land of the living now?" Marie teased as Samantha returned to their apartment.

"Most definitely," Samantha said, flopping onto the sofa, "Gone are the days where I shut myself in our room to study. I'm going to go out and enjoy myself."

"Well, at least you can," Marie said regretfully, "I've got an assignment to work on. Honestly, how does my professor expect me to create a transporter that can get someone into space?!"

Samantha laughed, "You're the top of your class, M," she said, "He has high standards. Besides, you're always saying that you could do it with the right materials. It's about time you started turning the big talk into big actions." Marie rolled her eyes.

"It's always about the doing with you Brits, isn't it?" Marie muttered.

"Hey, I take offense to that!" Samantha said jokily, "And I'm pretty sure all of your American counterparts do too. It's not about _heritage_, it's about mindset."

"So you won't mind being my test subject then?" Marie asked hopefully. Samantha's face fell, "I promise nothing will go wrong!" Marie added hastily, "It'll work perfectly, I promise."

"You know I hate travelling by transporter," Samantha grumbled, "I flew all the way over here from England in a shuttlecraft, for goodness sakes! It took six hours!"

"Come on, Sam, please!" Marie begged, getting down on her knees in front of the sofa, "Pretty please?" Samantha looked at her friend, before groaning.

"_Fine_," she said reluctantly, "But if it goes wrong, I'm banning you from all alcohol for a year."

"Deal," Marie said, hugging her friend thankfully.

*. . .*

That evening, Samantha found herself in a workshop watching Marie make some 'final adjustments' to the transporter pad she'd been working on.

"It should transport you to the other side of the room," Marie informed her, "It's only in the beginning stages, so I'm focusing on getting it to work short distance first."

"And you're _sure_ it works?" Samantha asked cautiously, "I'm not going to end up scattered across the universe, am I?"

"Of course not!" Marie said, "I fixed that problem ages ago. Now, get on the pad and don't move."

"How very reassuring," Samantha muttered to herself. Stepping onto the transporter pad, she couldn't help but feel a little nervous.

"Relax!" Marie insisted, "I know my craft." Samantha just rolled her eyes at her friend as Marie started pressing buttons on a dashboard, "Transporting in three... two... one..." she slammed her hand down onto the transport button, and beams of light started to circle around Samantha. Gulping she squeezed her eyes shut, and so didn't see the sparks erupting from the dashboard before she was beamed away.

When she opened her eyes, she found three, very shocked Starfleet workers in red uniform in front of her. Samantha really would have liked to explain, but her head was jumbled so much she could barely remember her name.

As she attempted to sort out her thoughts, she didn't notice one of the Starfleet workers sending a message to the Captain of the ship. She didn't notice said Captain entering the room either, still stood on the transporter pad trying to work out why her brain wasn't working right.

"Captain, I suggest that we approach with caution. We do not know who this person is, nor her intentions towards the ship or the crew." The calm and collected voice snapped her out of her thoughts and she looked around at the people in the room. She had been at Starfleet for long enough to know a captain when she saw one, and didn't even need the yellow shirt to recognise Captain Jim Kirk. The guy had been all over the news for almost a year after the John Harrison incident, and had been in there again more recently as the Enterprise set off on her five year mission.

She recognised the man stood just behind him as a Vulcan, but didn't know him by name.

"Who are you?" Captain Kirk asked her, stepping forward, despite his first-officer's protests.

"I'm..." she didn't even manage to tell him her name before she (not particularly gracefully) fainted into his arms.

* * *

**Just an introductory chapter really; things will, hopefully, begin to pick up from here. I can't promise constant updates, but they should be (relatively) quick. Reviews are my best friend and I value them almost as much as my life. If you hate it, tell me, if you love it, tell me, if you thought it was 'meh', tell me... you get the idea. TTFN, fellow fanfiction-ers ^-^ Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **So! Chapter 2! I don't like quite a few parts of this... not sure why. I feel like everyone is a bit.. OOC. Especially Jim in the last part... but, hey! That's why I post on fanfiction: to get some practice and some feedback!

It's not proofread, so typos are inevitable.. if you don't like that, I'd advise not reading it :) Enjoy!

* * *

Without a second thought, Jim scooped the girl up into his arms, "If someone could let Doctor McCoy know that I'm on my way up to the medical bay with our guest, that would be great," he called, leaving a room with Spock following close behind.

"Captain, are you sure that it is wise to let this stranger on board the ship when she appears to have hijacked the transport beam that, before today, had not worked for almost two weeks?"

"Well, we can hardly beam her back _off_ with a broken transporter beam, can we?" Jim reasoned, "Besides, if we let her stay, she might be able to help us."

"The question of whether or not it is _wise_ still remains, Captain," Spock said, and, had Jim not known him better, he may have sounded a little irritable.

"I think that we should trust her until we have any reason to do otherwise," Jim said firmly. Spock nodded.

"As you wish, Captain," he said, before walking back towards the bridge. Jim sighed; even he had to admit that an interesting new comer on the ship had made everyone a bit more lively. Two weeks being docked because there was no point of being on an exploration mission if they didn't have a transport beam that would _allow_ them to explore, and the crew was getting bored. The idea of an unexpected and unauthorised visitor appearing on board using a broken transporter beam had excited the Enterprise crew.

Sighing again, Jim looked down at the girl in his arms and, knowing his track record, muttered, "Please don't make me wrong for trusting you."

* * *

As Jim walked into the medical bay, McCoy sighed.

"Just when I thought I was going to have a quiet day," her muttered grumpily, leading Jim to a bed in the corner of the room.

"Oh, come on, Bones," Jim grinned, "You've been as bored of the rest of us, stuck here. You're itching for a bit of excitement!"

"I'm not sure I'll find any excitement from a girl who has just fainted, Jim," McCoy said, waving his tricorder over the girl Jim had settled on the bed, "And that is what happened, in case you were wondering. And there is nothing at all interesting about fainting." Jim pouted.

"Spoil sport," he murmured, dodging the elbow McCoy was about to jab him with, "Call me when she wakes up, will you? I'm sure everyone wants to know about our mystery guest." McCoy rolled his eyes.

"You have the strangest concept of fun, do you know that?" he called after his captain.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jim replied absentmindedly, grinning as he thought of the girl he had left in the Med Bay.

When he returned to the bridge, everyone turned to stare at him. Chekov didn't even have to announce his presence, as everyone's attention was already focused on Jim. He looked around confusedly as he made his way to his chair, "Can I help any of you?"

"Who is she?" Uhura asked quickly before anyone could get a question in before her, "And how did she get here?"

Jim grinned, "Well, you see, that's the fun part..." he paused, enjoying the irritation on the faces of his crew as he kept them in suspense, "I have absolutely no idea." The bridge crew groaned.

"You don't know anything?" Sulu demanded, "Not even her PADD number? Because, from what I've heard, a girl doesn't actually need to be conscious for you to get hold of that..." Jim gaped at his pilot's suggestion before recovering himself.

"I know as much as you do," he assured them, "And I'd like to request that you leave the interrogating to me when she finally wakes up... professionalism and all that."

"Yeah, professionalism. That's what it is..." Uhura muttered, smirking, turning back to her station. The other members of the bridge crew snickered as they followed her lead, turning their attention restlessly back to their work. Jim rolled his eyes, turning to Spock who was the only member of the crew still composed. The Vulcan looked like he was desperate to say something, despite his stoic expression and rigid posture.

"Speak your mind, Commander Spock," Jim said turning away again and waiting for Spock to start talking.

"I wish to inquire about our visitor, Captain," Spock said, leaving his station to stand next to Jim, both of them looking out of the window to the dockyard below.

"I told you," Jim said, "I don't know anything, only that she fainted. Other than that... nothing. No name, no age, no... rank or occupation. She's a complete stranger."

"Fascinating," Spock muttered, "So there is nothing to prove that she had the means to beam herself aboard the ship?"

"Nope," Jim said, popping the 'p' and shrugging, "Then again, there's nothing to disprove it either. For all we know, she could be some... super-genius. Or... she could have the lowest IQ ever registered. We don't know anything."

"This prompts me to ask again, Captain... was it wise to allow this girl to remain on board? Could we not have her transported into the space station and taken back to Earth as soon as possible?"

Jim sighed, "I don't know Spock," he said quietly, "What I _do_ know is that it's hard to keep up an act for a long time. That faint was real, and I doubt anyone trying to destroy us is going to come on board and just pass out. They'd be smarter than that. I don't think she's a danger to us. My instincts are telling me that she's going to help us somehow. My gut's never been wrong before, Spock." His first officer nodded his head beside him.

"I am not familiar with the 'gut feeling' you often speak of, Captain, but I am familiar with the concept and I believe that, given your history, it would be illogical to disagree with you." Jim smirked slightly.

"It's good to know that you have so much faith in me, Spock," he said. Spock merely returned to his station, and Jim was left slightly baffled by Spock's sudden expression of loyalty.

* * *

As Samantha started to regain her senses, she became aware of a calm quiet around her. Living on campus at the Starfleet Academy with about five thousand other people didn't make for the quietest of lives, and so the peacefulness of the room came as something of a shock.

She was more than comfortable staying exactly where she was... that is, until she remembered exactly what had happened and where she was.

She bolted upright, breathing heavily with the shock of realising that _she was in space._ Though it had occurred to her that, one day, she would probably be assigned to a star ship that would undoubtedly travel the universe, she didn't expect it to happen the same day she took her final exams.

"Woah, hold up there, kid," a deep voice beside her caught her attention, "I don't want you fainting on us again."

_Crap_, Samantha thought, cringing both inside and out, _I actually fainted. That's not embarrassing at all..._

"Oh," she said quietly, "Yeah... I don't travel well by transporter beam..."

"You and me both," the man beside her muttered, waving a tricorder over her body (which led her to believe that he was, in fact, a doctor. Well, she hoped he was, at least), "Well, you don't seem to be suffering from any long term effects from it at least. I have to say, kid, that was a pretty impressive stunt you pulled. How'd you do it?"

Samantha frowned, "Er... do _what_ exactly?" she questioned confusedly.

"Our transporter beam's been broken for over two weeks now," he elaborated, "Then you pop up out of nowhere." Samantha groaned.

"I'm going to murder my roommate," she muttered, her face in her hands. Then another thought occurred to her, though she was afraid that she already knew the answer, memories of the news report she had seen a fortnight ago coming back to her, "If you don't mind my asking... where am I?"

"On the board the USS Enterprise," the doctor told her, putting the tricorder away and picking up a PADD, "Now: name?"

"Samantha Olivier," she said, frowning, "And I came aboard using your broken transporter beam?"

"Yes," the doctor said impatiently, "Age?"

"Eighteen," Samantha supplied, "And a half," she added, "If you really want specifics."

"Alright, alright, no need for the attitude," her murmured, "Occupation and/or study area?"

"Starfleet Cadet, all study areas completed as of," she looked to a clock on the wall, "About thirteen hours ago. Who are you exactly?"

Before the doctor could answer, another voice echoed down the corridor attached to the medical bay, "Bones, I got your message."

"Oh, great," the doctor muttered, "He couldn't have waited ten minutes."

Samantha barely stopped herself from groaning as Captain Jim Kirk entered the room; not only was he one of the most famous members of Starfleet there had ever been, she had _fainted_ on him. That was more than embarrassing, that was... _totally mortifying._

"Jim, I'm in the middle of filling in my records, unless you want Starfleet on your ass wanting to know why you don't have a full report on our guest?" the doctor (now apparently named 'Bones') growled towards the captain who had made an appearance. Said captain held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright, I'll stay quiet and out of the way until you're done," he promised, leaning against the wall opposite the bed Samantha was sat on.

"Thank you," the doctor said, turning back to his PADD, "Any known allergies?"

"I guarantee you will _never_ beat me," Jim butted in, "I should get a medal for having to suffer through the most accidental anaphylactic shocks _ever_."

"What happened to staying quiet until I'm done?" Bones grumbled.

"Quiet is _boring_," Jim complained, "I want to get to know our guest! Besides, the crew's already contemplating about whether or not I'm going to get off with her..."

"Her has a name," Samantha interrupted, "And in answer to both your question," she looked to Doctor McCoy, "And your crew's contemplation," she turned her attention to Jim, "The answer is no."

Both men fell silent for a moment before Jim smirked slightly, "Quick to retort and just a little bit sassy... You should probably change that second no to a maybe..."

"Okay, that does it," Bones said exasperatedly, "I'll finish my report later. Don't get her worked up," he said, pointing an accusing finger at the captain. Jim crossed his heart, smiling at Bones sweetly. The doctor rolled his eyes and made his way into his office.

"Captain Jim Kirk," he introduced himself to Samantha, holding his hand out, "Welcome aboard the Enterprise. I'm pretty much always this... witty. You get used to it, apparently."

"Samantha," she introduced herself in return, shaking his hand, "I, er... apologise for hijacking your transporter beam. Though technically it isn't me who should be apologising, it's my roommate..." the captain raised an eyebrow.

"So you weren't the one who fixed our transporter beam for thirty seconds and then broke it again?" he questioned.

"Technically it was my friend," Samantha said awkwardly, "But I was her test subject."

"Fascinating." _Oh great_, Jim thought the second the word left his mouth, _I am definitely spending too much time around Spock..._

"I don't suppose there's any chance of me getting back to Earth any time soon, is there?" Samantha asked quietly. The captain smiled apologetically.

"Not unless you're some kind of engineering genius," he said shrugging, "And even then it might not be possible. Our resident engineering genius has been working on the transporter beam for two weeks now and he still can't work out what's wrong with it."

"Great," Samantha muttered, leaning back on the bed, "I guess it's a good thing my exams are out the way then..." Jim frowned; she did _not_ look old enough to have already finished her exams.

"Sorry, but... how old are you?" he asked. Samantha smiled slightly; it wasn't the first time she'd been asked that question.

"I'm eighteen," she told him, "I joined Starfleet two years ago."

"Woah..." Jim breathed, "That's... that's pretty impressive. And not an American girl, either!"

"Well, not much goes down with Starfleet in England these days," Samantha laughed, "I thought I might try it over here. Besides, the British don't have much love for Starfleet after the whole 'Kahn' incident. I'd only just moved here when that happened... my parents were a nightmare!" Jim chuckled.

"I guess you should probably switch that 'maybe' back to a 'no' then..." he grinned, "So, come on, tell me about this transporter business. You said it was your roommate...?"

"Marie, yeah," Samantha told him, "I may not be, but she _is_ an engineering genius... this transporter thing was kind of like a special project for her. The idea was to transport someone across space, but she was working on a prototype. Turns out... the prototype worked exactly how the real thing should."

Jim frowned again, "Interesting," he murmured, "I don't suppose she can beam herself up, could she? Shed sounds like exactly the kind of person we need right now..."

"Oh, I'd love to," Samantha said, grimacing, "I need to give her a piece of my mind for beaming me into _space_..."

Jim chuckled, "I'll get you a PADD. Do you think I could have a word with her, after you've finished giving her a 'piece of your mind'?" Samantha grinned.

"It'd be my pleasure," Samantha told him. She couldn't _wait_ to bring Marie face to face with the pretty boy that was James T. Kirk.

* * *

**Little bit short... abrupt ending... sorry! I ran out of inspiration a little bit. But, what did you think? Liked it, hated it? Thought it was a bit meh? Throw me a review if you want to make my day :) Thanks for reading!**


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